


The Death

by DarkBlueSocks



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkBlueSocks/pseuds/DarkBlueSocks
Summary: Thor tells you that Loki is dead. But is he? Yes. Yes, he is. (No, he’s not. Shh.)





	The Death

You didn’t cry when Thor told you. Though you almost wished you had. Without the tears there was no release. Instead there was only the build-up of emotion, the burning pain in your throat and the dull ache across your lungs and heart as though your entire body was attempting to turn in on itself.

              “I’m so sorry.” Thor murmured, and not for the first time that evening. It was a ridiculous thing to say; as though his apology meant anything; as though Loki’s death was something that could be forgiven, or that the death was somehow his fault.

However, in a way you supposed it was his fault. Thor was the one who dragged Loki out of prison on some ridiculous mission to save his girlfriend. If Thor had the sense to leave well enough alone, his brother wouldn’t have ended up dying in the process.

Your hands curled into fists at the thought, but you resisted the temptation to punch Thor in his chiselled jaw. Violence wouldn’t make you happy right now.

               “Thor,” you tried a smile to cover the waver in your voice. “I think it’s best if you leave now… I have a lot of packing to do.”

The intention of your statement was obvious: the palace had held no meaning for you ever since Loki had been sentenced to life in prison, but you had remained even then in order to stay closer to him. Now there was nothing to stay closer to. Thor seemed to have other plans. “You can stay here without Loki.” He pressed, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. You flinched away at the contact, jumping to your feet to begin the fore-mentioned packing. “No one would make you leave.”

It was nice of Thor to say, but you had never been a favourite of Odin. He had only ever allowed your presence in the palace due to Loki and Frigga. Certainly Thor wouldn’t allow him to just kick you out – but it was a conversation you would rather avoid.

Seeing that your mind was set and he had no hopes of changing it, Thor left you in peace to pack. But packing was difficult. The wardrobe was filled with elegant dresses in silks and velvets and furs and every other kind of material the wealthy used to excess. But each dress held a memory, and all your memories had turned sad now. This gown held the memory of when you first saw him, and when he had first seen you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you that night, though you had the same problem. That coat you had been wearing when you were informed of Loki’s capture on earth. To think you had once been relieved that your lover should rot in prison rather than be killed outright. The worst torture was not getting to see him after that.

Or ever again.

Your hands ghosted across Loki’s own garments. His scent didn’t linger here. The fabric slipped from your fingers, crumbling onto the ground as you imagined his corpse must have done not too long ago. Loki hadn’t worn any of these things for a while, being in prison and all. It wasn’t like the second he got out of prison he would rush to see you or anything.

Perhaps you were bitter about this.

Beautiful as they were, you couldn’t see yourself ever needing them outside of palace life. Not to mention each and every single one seemed to be filled with memories of Loki. You couldn’t avoid memories though, and decided to solely pack what you could of Loki’s extensive library into a single bag before making the journey out of the palace as quickly and silently as you could.

For all you knew, Thor could still be about with the intention of trying to convince you to remain for a while longer, or worse try to say sorry again. If you had to listen to him apologize one more time, you’d probably punch him in the throat.

You had very nearly made it to the entrance when you were stopped.

               “And where are you going?” a booming voice called out as you attempted to escape.

It was Odin. Naturally.

A fake smile stretched across you face as you turned to face the All Father. Hatred made your eyes wince. “I’m leaving, Odin.” You stated as though it was the simplest thing in the world. Which it was, really.

Confusion flashed across the old man’s eye, as though he had actually expected you to remain in the palace after your sole reason for being there in the first place suddenly died. Perhaps he no longer connected you to Loki. You wanted to throw something at him. The confusion died in an instant and Odin took up a more unnaturally straight stance and a smug smile that didn’t suit his wrinkly face.

               “Don’t you think you should say, ‘your highness’?”

Oh how badly you wanted to kill him. Your hatred of Odin distorted your perception of him. While you recognized what he was saying as something outside his general character, it seemed like something the obnoxious version of him you had in your mind would say on a regular basis. You stared into Odin’s one good eye, imagining how it would go down. He wouldn’t be expecting it, that was for sure. You would have dived at him, a concealed dagger making short work of his voice box before ultimately doing enough damage to end his life. You smiled at the thought and wondered why you weren’t simply putting your plan into action. The concealed dagger felt like it was burning against your thigh. Loki was dead. Odin was as much a scapegoat as anyone.

Before your mind was completely aware of what your body was doing, you had lunged at him. The desired shock was there in his eye, but he was not as unprepared for the attack as you would have liked. Odin’s arms sprung forward, binding your wrists in a vice like grip as the force of your lunge sent you both tumbling backwards. You struggled in vain to twist the dagger in your hand, hoping to at least do some small amount of damage to Odin’s hand before he killed you.

But suddenly it wasn’t Odin.

Grey hair had been replaced with black , and wrinkled features had given way to young and handsome ones. Loki’s eyes gazed into your own like you were a psychotic maniac, but you were too overwhelmed by shocked numbness to remind him that you weren’t one.

               “You were really going to kill the All father?!” Loki gasped, your dagger reappearing some ways away as it clattered loudly to the ground.

A thousand emotions surged through your head before you could even think of answering Loki’s question. Annoyance at missing your opportunity to kill Odin, shock at the turn of events, suspicion at the sight of a man who was so clearly meant to be dead, that all transformed suddenly into an almost overwhelming joy at the return of Loki. Which quickly bubbled down to rage.

               “You bastard.” You hissed at him as you started beating at his armoured chest with curled fists. Loki appeared confused, but allowed you to beat him as he recovered from his own shock at being almost slaughtered by his beloved. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”

Sick of being hit, Loki caught both your hands in one of his own, leaving his second hand free to grab your chin. He turned your face from side to side, examining carefully. The fighting and shouting was gone now, replaced with a sort of nervous quiet as you wondered what on earth Loki was looking for. The way the day was turning out so far your emotions were so fried you weren’t even sure if you were happy to see him anymore or just really annoyed at ever thinking he was dead in the first place.

               “Did you honestly not cry?” he asked in a disgusted tone. But he already had the answer from examining your face so closely. Perhaps on a subconscious level you had known Loki to be alive, which is why your body wouldn’t allow you to shed actual tears at the thought of his death? You chose not to share that theory with Loki. A smug grin worked itself smugly across his face as he observed you lying atop him. “You like me enough to kill the King of Asgard, but not enough to cry over my death.”

As though to deny what Loki was saying, a single tear finally worked itself out of your eye and trailed down your cheek. Loki’s eyes followed the tear’s descent. Once it reached your chin he removed it with the tip of his pointer finger, examining it as though to confirm it was, in fact, a legitimate tear.

               “You didn’t cry when you thought me to be dead, but you cry now that you know I’m alive?”

You were honestly going to slap him if he continued talking like this.

               “What a ridiculous thing to say.” You muttered darkly, turning your nose up at him and finally moving to try and get off him. However, Loki wouldn’t let you leave. Instead he wrapped his arms tightly around you. His embrace was something you had missed for such a long time, and the sudden warmth that came from it now almost made your feel dizzy with so much delight you didn’t know what to do.

               “I’ve missed you.” He sighed out, ignoring your failing attempts to half-heartedly escape from him. As he gently ran his fingers through your hair, any thought of escape or even feigning disinterest as a small act of spite and petty revenge disappeared entirely. 


End file.
